Rebound Girl
by Whitewolf92
Summary: You don't date the rebound girl, you have sex with the rebound girl. They were both hurting and desperate for attention, and sex seemed to be a healthy release. AddisonAlex.
1. Six Months Ago

**There you go… my first fic! I don't believe in constructive criticism. Be harsh if you want, but you have to be helpful.**

**Six Months Ago  
**

* * *

"_You suck."_

_The words penetrated his haze of self-loathing and misery, and he gazed in surprise at her muddy green eyes. His shock quickly grew as she continued._

"_To me, you suck. I kind of…hate you," her eyes twinkled mischievously, but then turned serious, "but, Alex, we do not get unlimited chances to have the things we want. And this I know," her eyes suddenly seemed to glaze over with pain, and once again he felt a pang of regret for the way he had hurt her, "nothing is worse than missing an opportunity that could have changed your life. And no matter what her name is," she added, smiling that sad little smile of hers again, "she'll always be Ava to you."  
_

_He should have felt satisfied then. He should have been glad that she seemed to have forgiven him and moved on, had actually given him advice on his love life. But as he rushed out the church to run after Ava, Alex could only feel a strange emptiness that had settled over the pit of his stomach.

* * *

_

"Dr. Montgomery," he says, walking up to the attending, cup of coffee in hand. The thing they've established since she came back from L.A., the attending-to-intern, everything is fine, mind your own business routine is holding well, and things are settling back to what can be called normal. He still brings her coffee every morning, though. For some reason that particular habit has not died as easily as others. But of course he's just sucking up, just because he's a resident now doesn't mean he gets into all the surgeries he wants. Besides, they're friends. Bringing coffee was what friends do. It was nothing.

Right?

"Karev," she addresses him without even needing to look up from her chart, last name rolling easily off her lips, "big case today. You want in?"

"Sure—here," he replies, thrusting the mocha latte into her pen-free hand, "no vanilla today. I was running late and they were out—"

"It's okay," she interrupts, nodding her thanks and taking a long sip, "how'd things go with Ava?"

The casualness that she addresses the matter of his love life for some reason unnerves him, but he dismisses the feeling. "Well, I caught up with her at the airport, and she took me back. Then we—talked."

"Talked?" she raises an eyebrow, mouth turning upward at the same time into an amused half smile, "No kissing? No sex?"

"That so hard to believe?" good, they were being playful today. He can handle playful. She could insult him, and he could give it back tenfold, no hard feelings. But all of a sudden the playfulness feels like flirting, and he feels himself blushing.

"Yes," one simple word, and then she's snapping back to business mode again, "I want to you take a good look at this chart before you meet our patient. Apparently she has some sort of hemorrhagic fever, possibly—"

"Wait," maybe it was the blushing tension, or maybe just because, but he cuts her off mid-sentence, "yes? What's that supposed to mean?"

She finally looks up, surprise evident in her eyes, "Well, no offense, but you're not known for taking it slow," he winces, and she adds, "it's nice though. To see that you are."

"Nice?" he replies, "How can you just―" then he realizes that he's shouting. "Come with me," he hisses, taking her arm.

"What—Dr. Karev!" he ignores her protests, and drags her into the nearest on-call room. Slamming the door shut, he turns to her, furious for absolutely no reason, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She glares at him, and all of a sudden he's reminded of the old times when they were just sparring partners, nothing else. "What's wrong with _me_? You're the one that—"

"I dumped you, damn it!" he yells, "Twice! You kissed me at Joe's, and I tell you I'm not interested. You give me the best sex I've had in a long time, and I dump you again! How can you just _pretend_ everything is going fine, when I reject you twice?!"

He shoots her his best glare, and starts to pace around the room, unable to look her in the eye anymore. In truth, he doesn't know why he was so pissed. He has Ava, they were supposed to be friends, and everything's supposed to be normal. They had_ been_ normal, until he decided to ruin things. Cursing himself, he turns back to her.

"Look—" he starts, but then sees that she's desperately trying to keep a straight face, "What?"

She shakes her head, now grinning evilly, "My, my," she remarks, "Alex Karev, guilty about dumping a girl?"

"I'm not―" but suddenly she's laughing, and he's laughing too, and then his lips are crushed against hers, and without knowing why, without knowing what exactly had happened, they were kissing. They kiss, but after a while she pushes him away. He looks into her eyes, seeing the passion, the heartbreak, and the regret.

"I—we can't," she whispers, slowly backing away. He stares at her, not knowing what to say, only managing her name.

"Addison…" but the use of her first name makes her shake her head and back away even more.

"You don't want me," she says, voice trembling, "you—you want Ava."

He can do nothing but stand there and stare as she hurriedly adjusts her wrinkled scrubs and walks out the door.

* * *

**Hope I didn't butcher the kissing scene too badly. Please review!**


	2. The Thing They Had

**Thanks for the reviews! A little explanation: The whole chapter happened six months ago, not just the italicized stuff. I probably will have an italicized section every chapter, which will be flashbacks (necessarily in the episodes, some are self invented, like this one), quotes, or just musings about things in general.**

**Anyways, enough rambling. Here's the second chapter, enjoy!  
**

* * *

**The Thing They Had**

"_How'd you do it?"_

_She turned around, and almost bumped into him. "Good morning, Dr. Karev," she said sarcastically, "how nice to see―"_

_It was then that she realized that something was wrong. He hadn't shaved, smelled like alcohol, and his eyes were unfocused and bloodshot. "Alex…what's wrong?"_

_He ignored her question, and continued to stare at something apparently very interesting above her head, "How'd you do it?" he repeated  
_

_"Do what?"_

_"After Shepherd cheated on you at prom, how'd you get it back together so quickly? What did you do?"_

_"Alex," she was worried now, "did something happen…"_

_But she already knew. She knew, from the desperate look on his face, from the mixture of hurt, rage, and defeat in his eyes. She knew because she had been there, when she had found a pair of panties in her husband's pocket._

_And once again, she had become the go-to person for adultery._

_Funny, really, how people flock to you for advice after you had been both the committer _and_ the victim in the past._

_But he was hurting, so she gave him the best advice she could give, "You cry, if you can," she noted again the bloodshot eyes with a small burst of jealousy she knew she had no right to feel, "if that doesn't work, you drink. You drown your sorrows in liquor, and try to forget. If that doesn't work either," she recalled from her own experience with a small twinge of guilt, "you... have some rebound sex."_

_That got his attention, and once again she was painfully reminded of how much he resembled Mark when sex was involved, "Rebound sex?"_

_She nodded. "Rebound sex. You, uh, find someone who…won't ask you to talk about it, and who's good at…you know, and, you…do it with …whomever. Psychologically it's very unhealthy," she added as he finally tore his gaze from the very interesting thing above her head and stared at her instead, "but―"_

_She didn't remember how she got there (maybe he kissed her, she always did something regrettable when he kissed her), but the next thing she knew she was in an on-call room and he was ripping her blouse off._

_She thought about resisting him, at first. She thought about pushing him away and yelling, telling him that he had had his chance and blew it, that she wasn't interested anymore…_

_She could say these things, but she didn't. Because after the past year, after Derek and Mark (not to mention him), even rebound sex was welcome._

_Which goes lengths to prove how pathetic she's become._

* * *

It was just about sex.

Actually, there were other things involved, but nothing that a normal, healthy person would use to associate with sex. For him it was about keeping his mind off Ava, for her it was about an insane, desperate, and completely human (not to mention pathetic) desire to be needed. It wasn't about liking each other, it wasn't about the "thirst for the soul" (though she never believed much in it anyway), and sure wasn't making love. No, it was just plain, horny, and disgustingly passionate sex.

And it seemed to breach the awkwardness between them since their...encounter in the on-call room six months ago. With the rebound sex there was no more tension-filled silences and energy-packed brushes, no more awkward moments in the OR. Besides their occasional meetings in empty on-call and conference rooms, life went on as usual, each going about performing surgeries and caring for patients. Even their screaming matches were still a nearly weekly event, and, if anything, even more intense.

Even the sex was almost businesslike. There was no playful bantering beforehand, nor, God help us all, cuddling afterwards. They simply went into the designated place, tore off each other's clothes, did it, put their clothes back on, and walked out, each radiating an aura of calmness.

Of course, being the annoyingly willing to commit person, there were times when she wondered if sex with no strings was too good to be true, if this thing they had could be _going_ anywhere. But these times were few, and she dismissed them as they came. Rebound sex was good, it was...almost healthy. But rebound relationships were a different thing. The sex was good without the emotional baggage, and she realized that not having a man to define her life wasn't really all that bad. It was kind of like Mark all over again, except _he_ didn't nag about having to establishing an relationship. Sex with Karev was actually sort of…refreshing.

So when they started acting almost like a couple (bantering, cuddling, all the things she hated), she felt compelled to do something. She had experienced first hand how rebound relationships turned out, and being his friend naturally she didn't want him in such a position. Things were going fine the way they were, there was no need to change.

Was there?

* * *

They have a thing for supply closets.

It isn't a horny, aphrodisiac thing like Derek and Meredith had with elevators, but it's still a thing, and since he had started the thing by telling her he wasn't interested months and months ago, she has to honor the thing and pull him into an supply closet and talk.

"We need to talk," she starts, but then notices that he's grinning, "What?"

"Nothing," he replies, still grinning, "You look hot when you're worried, though."

"I am not—stop grinning!" but being the cocky bastard he grins anyway, and she drags a hand over her hair in exasperation, "See, this is why I need to talk to you."

"What?"

"This!" she waves a vague hand at the two of them, "The flirting, the "accidental" brushes—don't argue with me Karev, I can tell the difference, standing so close to me sometimes I can't even breathe, and—we're talking when we're supposed to be having sex!"

"I can change that," he murmurs, stepping just a little closer, but in the cramped closet space, it's enough to make her uncomfortable.

"Stop!" she waves a hand as if to ward off his suddenly overwhelming presence, taking a step back at the same time, "I don't mean now, Alex. Right now, we're talking."

"Right," he looks confused now, "When we're supposed to be having sex?"

"No!" she half shouts and backs away more, almost knocking over a stack of towels, "See, what you're doing, it messes with my head."

"Sorry," but the amused expression on his face tells her that the apology is far from sincere, "But I still don't get the point."

"The _point_, Alex, is that we are not a couple."

There. She said it. She said it, and now she has to continue. "Look," she says, trying to get through his obviously dense brain, "We've enjoyed each other, for what, almost two months? We still can. But trust me, good, healthy relationships do not come out of rebound sex. It's just not a good idea. I'm just good for rebound sex, nothing more. You need me to get over Ava, and I get that, I do. But the sex—it's just that. There is no need to make it into something else. Something…meaningful and significant."

He looks at her for a while after her speech, an expression of mingled surprise and amusement on his face. Then, finally, "Okay."

"Okay?" She stares at him, not quite believing it, "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, then," she can't help but breathe a sigh of relief, and moves to leave.

"Wait," he blocks her from exiting, and for some odd reason her heart skips a beat, "So I can't ask out?"

She rolls her eyes at his obvious immaturity, "Obviously, Karev."

"And I can't kiss you?"

She considers what he means by the question, and then replies carefully, knowing that with a single word she can easily lead them into dangerous territory, "Not in public, no."

"Okay," he nods, understanding what she means, "What about―"

"Oh, for God's sake," she cuts him off, "You've dated women before, right?" he nods, and she continues, "Just make sure that whatever you do with them, you don't do with me, okay?"

He nods, but then, as he moves out of the way, "One more question. Is flirting still allowed? It's gone on forever. I mean, we did it back when we still hated each other."

This time she's the one smiling, and replying was easy again, "Hate's a strong word, Karev," she says as she pushes open the door, "but I really, really don't like you."

"Is that a yes?" His eyes seem to glitter in amusement, though his face was still determinedly straight.

"Figure it out, Dr. Karev," she replies, walking away, "Figure it out."

* * *

**Was it okay? Too cheesy? Let me know!  
**


	3. Midlife Crisis

**The season 3 DVD, called "Seriously Extended" is out on September 11! Amazon already has a waiting list. I suggest to everyone to take a look.**

**Anyway, I'm sort of taking a break from the lovely bantering of Addisex, and taking a look at Addison's relationship with another male. It all ties along with the story, trust me. I think you'll know who I'm talking about by either the title or the quote that follows.**

**Midlife Crisis**

* * *

_I know, you're a flannel-wearing, wood-chopping fisherman. I GET IT._

―_Addison Montgomery_

He finally gives up rattling the door in hopes that it might open, and runs back into his car, sagging into the soft leather of the driver's seat in defeat. Sighing, he stares out into the rain, thinking about what had happened.

He and Meredith fought. Again.

She had kicked him out of the house. Again.

He had managed to leave his key in her house and lock himself out of the trailer. Again.

And now, he's faced with two choices: He could either sleep somewhere else for the night, or go back to the house like a kicked puppy, apologize, and beg her to take him back.

Again.

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, and stares at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Maybe Addison had been right, when she first came to Seattle.

Maybe he _is_ just going through a midlife crisis.

But no, that can't be right. Believing in that means believing he had wasted a year of life in Seattle, being McDreamy and fly-fishing when he could have tried to fix marriage. Believing in that means believing that maybe he had ignored his wife for almost a year for nothing, that he had been wrong to sign the divorce papers.

But most of all, believing that means believing that he had, in fact, _not_ fallen in love with Meredith. And that was something he cannot believe.

He _is_ in love with Meredith. He is.

So why is he sitting in his car?

He's a faithful guy (forget about abandoning Addison during prom, even faithful guys mess up sometimes). Faithful guys are supposed to know when to give their girlfriends space. And being the faithful, wonderful boyfriend he is, he thinks that maybe Meredith needs some space right now.

He'll give her some space, and stay somewhere else for the night, giving them both some breathing space. They'll both take a step back and think about _them_, and tomorrow, they'll talk.

He'll give her space tonight, and hope that maybe, _maybe_, things return to normal.

* * *

Going to Joe's had not been the plan.

The plan had been to go directly back to down and find a hotel, but somewhere along the long drive back to civilization he decides that, after having his ass kicked by his girlfriend (who happened to be about two feet shorter than him, by the way), he really, really needs his single-malt Scotch tonight.

He isn't surprised to see her there, but he _is_ surprised to be hit with an idea that's… only slightly inappropriate.

But hell, he had just been forced out of the house by a woman twelve years his junior. He could be a bit inappropriate tonight.

Besides, he and Addison are adults. They're even friends, on good days. Friends could live with other for a night, even though they are exes. Right?

For once he decides not to overanalyze, and to act upon his brilliant spur-of-the-moment idea.

Most brilliant ideas aren't spur-of-the-moment. But this one this.

So he makes his way up to the counter, and can't help chuckling at the sight of her contemplating over a bourbon. "Drowning our sorrows in liquor again?" he quips, and then turns to Joe, "The usual, please."

Her only reply was a mumbled "Screw you" and a draining of her glass.

"Ouch," he pretends to wince, and then smiles his McDreamy smile, knowing full well it would irritate her more, and that it could possibly screw up his not-really-that-brilliant-but-who-cares idea, "Thought we were supposed to be mature and civilized in public."

"Four fatalities," she snaps, "Out of five this week. I get to be rude today."

"Point taken," he nods, trying to sound sympathetic but not quite pulling it off and causing her to roll her eyes, "Joe," he calls, changing the subject, "How many has she had?"

"Two."

"Ah," he looks back at her, smiling slightly, "Sober enough to talk, then."

She drains another shot, and glares at him. "Go back to your girlfriend."

"Actually," he pauses, wondering how she would react, "She kicked me out."

To her credit she stays silent, and he's prompted to continue, "We were fighting, and―"

"I don't need to know all the messy little details of your love life," she interrupts, "Just tell me what you want."

"I, uh, left my key at her house," he pauses again, taking a careful sip of his Scotch, "So…I'm locked out of the trailer. And I was wondering if―"

"No," she cuts him off before he can finish, shaking her head in emphasis, "No, no, no, no, _no_."

"Addison, we're adults," he tries reason to the curls that went flying as she shakes her head, "We can―"

"I'm _trying_ to be an adult here," she says, waving a hand for another shot, "I'm trying to just tell you no, instead of slapping you like a woman should do when her _ex-husband_ wants to room with her!"

"Addie, come on. Just one night. It's not as if we're in a relationship. I'll sleep on the couch—in the bathtub, even!" he hisses in desperation at her resolute expression.

She seems amused by the thought of him sleeping in a bathtub, so he uses the brief hesitation to his full advantage and runs a hand through his hair, hoping that for once his McDreamy antics will work on her. But she scowls at him, so he stops, and uses his eyes instead, a trick he had perfected during their marriage.

And it seems to work. "Tell you what," she suddenly says, eyes gleaming (uh oh, _not_ a good sign), "Get me drunk, and I mean really, really, punched out drunk, and I'll let you stay the night at my place. And―" she adds as he grins widely and raises his glass, "If you promise to be gone by the time I wake up, I'll even let you sleep on the couch."

"Generous of you," he replies sarcastically, but still can't help smiling as he drains his glass and calls Joe for another.

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? Let me know!**

**And as for how it ties in with the story…let's just say that Joe's is a big bar, and that anyone could have seen them drinking and leaving together and get the wrong impression. I'm just saying.**


	4. Jealous, Baby

**Sorry this took so long…this chapter hated me and I couldn't get it on paper. And now I have a sickening feeling that it's terrible. But, terrible or not, tell me what you think.**

* * *

**Jealous, Baby**

_She saw him after the surgery, chart in hand, and suddenly she just _knew_ that he was going to visit Ava again. So she decided that instead shaking her head and moving on like she usually did, she should talk to him._

_"Karev," her voice came out sharper than she had intended, but at this point she no longer cared._

_He turned around, smiling. "Hey, I was just going to check on Ava―"_

"_Do I have another Denny Duquette situation on my hands?" she said, and he looked almost amused at her accusation._

"_What? Are you serious?"_

"_I have _never _seen you so attentive with a patient!" her voice rose, both in volume and pitch, "You're always there, checking her stats, running tests, doing _research_!"_

"_But it's my job," he tried to interrupt, but she refused to let him talk._

"_No, it's my job," she grabbed the chart in his hands, "_I'm_ her doctor. You're my intern―"_

"_Which is why I have to know her stats at all times," and as usual he was going head to head with her, not caring that she was his boss, "Because I am not about to stand there in _your_ OR and be anything less than over-prepared. Okay? There's no way I'm gonna go to work everyday with a surgeon like you and not be at the top of my game."_

_Suddenly, she couldn't stop staring at his mouth, at the way they moved when he yelled at her, and couldn't help thinking about how they felt when she had kissed him at Joe's. And she noticed how convenient that an on-call room was located right next them…_

_He was finishing up his rant now, "So, if you're gonna yell at me―" and her lips were on his, and she was literally shoving him into the on-call room, pulling off his clothes at the same time. And after a while he responded, kissing back._

_At that moment, she was sure that he was the one. He would barbeque, he would teach kids how to play catch, be everything she ever wanted in a man. It didn't matter that they were five feet from the nurse's station when she seduced him, didn't matter that they were probably going to be the object of gossip for at least a month. None of that mattered, because he was _the one

_How very wrong she was._

* * *

It turns out that New Years Resolutions are, in fact, _not_ the least-kept promises ever made by a human being. 

Swearing never to drink again after getting a hangover is.

And she knows this, because she's made this promise at least thirty times in the past year, and never manages to keep it for more than two days.

But she makes it anyways this morning, for the pure sake of tradition. She still makes this promise, even though by now she knows there's no possible way she can keep it.

Because she's learned, in the past year, that alcohol was how she gets by when things get tough.

Well, alcohol and sex.

She wonders now if Derek has a thing for women who deal with problems using alcohol and one-night stands.

Or adulterous manwhores. Take your pick.

Sex in general.

But back to hangovers, how much she hates them. How they make her bitter and cynical (not that she's not when she's hangover-free). They give her headaches, and make her sick.

And apparently they make her ramble.

Mentally.

She thinks that maybe she should shut her mind up and stop staring at her reflection in her locker mirror before Richard or Miranda comes in and yells at her.

Maybe.

But as she contemplates whether or not she should shut her locker and add another minute of agony to her already pounding head, in walks Derek and her bad mood gets even worse.

She can tell that he's already made up with Meredith (The wide grin and jaunty walk? Classic). He's whistling again, undoubtedly going through another one of his "bright and shiny" phases. So she rummages through her locker, hoping that if she looks busy enough, he won't talk to her.

But she's forgotten how chatty bright and shiny Derek can be.

"Hey," he chirps, and she can't help but wince at the pure _happiness_ in his voice.

But they're friends now, and she doesn't really want to go back to Derek hating her, so she replies, "Hey."

She shuts her locker as quietly as possible, but still the noise causes her to cringe. Turning around, she sees that he's smirking at her, "What?"

He shakes his head, but still smirks. "How's that head?"

If her locker was still open she would have thrown something at him, but since it's not and she doesn't really want to risk her head imploding, she can only glare and reply, "That's the last time I ever talk to you in a bar."

He looks a little taken aback at her aggressiveness (But why? He _did_ call her the Queen of Passive-Aggresiva), but still seems determined to make a smart-ass comment. But when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out.

Nothing comes out, because Alex Karev chooses to come in right then and shove him up a wall.

She blinks a couple of times, because the bizarre scene she's seeing, the guy trying to kill his boss one, seems just a tiny bit surreal. But she doesn't wake up, and though she wants to check a few more times, Derek's yelling now, and _God_ how her head suffers when Derek yells, so she snaps out of it quickly and tries to intervene.

"Karev!" she yells, but immediately regrets it, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Me?" he snarls, expression perfectly venomous, "I'm kicking his ass."

He raises a fist, but she quickly moves between them, and, luckily for her, he pulls back just in time.

"Stop it!" She seriously needs to stop yelling, but can't help it, now he's trying to push her away, "Alex!"

He finally seems to get that she's not moving, and backs off. She relaxes slightly, and then glares at him, "What the hell was that about?"

To her surprise he seems mad at her as well, "Don't play innocent," he hisses, "I saw you two."

She frowns, nonplussed, "What?"

"Last night at Joe's," he snaps, "Drinking and laughing and leaving together. Don't pretend you don't know."

"So?"

He seems shocked at her lack of guilt. "So? You went home together."

"I still don't see why you risked getting kicked out of the program for assaulting your boss," Wait. Was he _jealous_?

"You left together!" Suddenly he looks ready to kill Derek again, so for safety's sake (not that it would have helped) she moves back into place, "So you must have slept with him. He―" he points an accusing finger at Derek, who flinches slightly behind her, "Has a girlfriend now. And even if he doesn't, he has no right to shag up my―"

He suddenly stops, and she looks at him, puzzled. "Your what?"

He doesn't speak, and she realizes in an instant what he had been about to say, "Your girlfriend? Is that you were about to say?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off, taking a step forward, "You were about to say girlfriend, weren't you?"

"Hey―"

"I sleep with you!" And all of a sudden she doesn't care that she's yelling and every word she utters can break her head, all she wants to do is break him for what he did to her before, "I sleep with you, when you need sex. That is ALL. I am _not_ your girlfriend. You have _no_ right to barge in here and beat up a friend simply because he needed somewhere to spend the night. And it is _none_ of your business who _I_ choose to get drunk with on a bad day."

He looks almost mortified now, but she isn't finished, "I am your _boss_, Karev. We are co-workers, nothing more. You are _not_ allowed to butt into my life where I don't want you to be. So you'd better do your rounds and be a good little boy for the rest of the day, and pray to _God_ that I don't mention this to the Chief."

He stands there for a minute, but she turns up her glare power, so he runs, and she stares after him, fuming silently. How _could_ he? He had no right, after what he did to her. How dare think that just because he wanted her now that she would respond in kind? She doesn't even _feel_ anything about him now above simple attraction.

(Of course, the urge she had to kiss the anger off his face when he was yelling tells the rational part of her mind that she probably does, but she tends to ignore the rational part of her mind when she's mad and hungover.)

"I could've taken him on," the sulky voice of her ex-husband brings her, rather abruptly, out of a soon-to-come sex fantasy and back to reality, "I didn't need your help."

"Shut up," she replies absently, "He was a pro-wrestler in college. He would have destroyed your ego _and_ some of your hair."

"Whatever," he says, but suddenly brightens, "So, you and Karev?"

"No," she mutters, and begins to exit when she realizes that Derek probably didn't cover his ears when she and Karev had been screaming at each other, "Oh, and Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"If you even _think_ about breathing a word about this to anyone," she says, smirking, "I'll make sure that you will regret every little embarrassing story that you told me during our marriage."

She has to leave then, because laughing would have been too much for her head.

* * *

**Yes, this chapter sucked. Yes, you waited a long time for a bad chapter. But you love me anyway, so you WILL REVIEW.**


	5. Bigger Person

**I'm rambling this chapter in the beginning, feel free to skip.**

* * *

**Bigger Person**

_It happens all the time._

_Two people get into an argument, and not speak to each other for days. One person, in order to be the "bigger person", will apologize. But of course, the other person will say that in accepting the apology, he or she is actually being the bigger person. An argument will soon follow, and the said two people will not speak to each other again. One will try to be the bigger person, and then…_

_You get the picture._

_It's a never-ending cycle._

_But who's right?_

_On one hand we have the apologizer. It takes a lot of guts to admit that you're wrong, and ask for forgiveness. You'll have to swallow the immense ego that probably got you in trouble the first place, which is…well, excruciating for some people._

_But on the other hand, it takes a lot to forgive as well. You have to not focus on yourself for just a second, and place yourself in the other person's shoes. And then, if you are considerate enough, you have to accept the apology and move on._

_So who's better?_

_In the end, it doesn't really matter. If you actually care about who you're arguing with, sooner or later you'll be willing to let go of the argument. If don't like the other person…you'll get tired of arguing eventually._

_But back to the age-old question: Who is the bigger person, the one who apologizes, or the one who forgives?_

_Maybe we should ask ourselves instead why we were petty and egotistical enough to care in the first place._

* * *

Good air in, bad air out.

Okay.

He's going to do this.

It's perfectly normal, really. He made a mistake, and now he wants to apologize. Nothing to it.

Except how he wants to run in the other direction at the mere thought of it.

But he can't. If he chickens out now, she probably won't forgive him ever again. After all, he's already disappointed her twice. Maybe third time's the charm works the other way around, too.

But he's not going to think about that, because he's going through this time. He's going to be the bigger person, and apologize.

Okay, now he wants to laugh.

Because, really, the whole thing doesn't seem too much like him. Getting jealous and wanting a girl he dumped twice? And then, wanting to apologize for yelling? It seems more of Shepherd's or Sloan's thing. The whole mess he made doesn't really match his indifferent and tough exterior.

But hey, she likes Shepherd and Sloan, right? She even called Shepherd a friend. So he figures that she'll appreciate him apologizing.

Not that he's doing it for her, of course.

He just wants to be the bigger person, that's all. The whole clear my conscience thing.

Nothing else to it.

* * *

She sees him coming, looking almost hesitant, and obviously not wanting to be seen. She sees him, and immediately engages with conversation with Mark.

It's not really a conscious thing, but some _very_ small part of her registers the jealous act he pulled this morning as cute, and wants him to do it again.

So she talks to Mark, who looks surprised, probably because, well, since he came to Seattle she hasn't really been that talkative toward him. But obviously he's enjoying the attention, because he starts flirting again, and, to her surprise as much as his, she's flirting back.

But Mark's called away by a page before he can fully emerge, and she's left alone. So she pretends not to see him, and busies herself with a chart.

He comes up behind her, and leans in just enough to make her uncomfortable, so she says, hoping that she sounds angry, "Gonna yell at me again?"

He says nothing, so she continues, "Or, I don't know, shove Mark up a wall too because he was talking to me?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?" she pretends to scribble something on the chart, just to look busy.

"I want to apologize."

Surprise, surprise. She should've known he's going to pull something like this. "You shouldn't," she mutters, still not looking at him, "It messes with your badass persona."

"Yeah," and to her surprise he chuckles, "Yeah, I suppose it does."

"So?"

"So I'm sorry," he says, "I jumped to the wrong conclusion."

She sighs, and turns around to face him, "Yeah, you did."

"And even if I didn't, I shouldn't have acted that way," he goes on, avoiding her eyes so that he seems to be apologizing to his sneakers instead, "I'm not your boyfriend. I shouldn't be that protective. Who you're with, it's none of my business. I'm sorry," he finally looks up, and brown eyes pleading for validation, "Will you forgive me?"

She opens her mouth, but her pager rings right then, and it's an emergency. She sighs, and says to him, "I have to take this."

He nods, and lets her go. She manages to looks back only once, and sees him looking at her as well.

She sees how desperate he seems, and wonders (just for old time's sake, she's not really that much of a hater) if she really should forgive him.

* * *

But after two more patients die on the table, she decides that _of course _she's going to forgive him, and pulls into an on-call room some de-stressing help. The sex is good, and besides, she doesn't see any fun in bearing grudges. That's more of Derek's thing.

It's much more fun to be the bigger person and forgive.

* * *

**Ah, my poor and in denial couple. So scary and damaged.**

**Now, I have bad news. I'm putting this story on hiatus for a while. Maybe a month, maybe two. I need to earn money, so I'll be working on a short story manuscript instead. Even a bored teenager needs money sometimes. But.**

**But.**

**But, if you review, I will stop procrastinating and work faster to write my manuscript. That way maybe you'll have to wait a shorter time for my next sucky chapters.  
**

**  
**


	6. Fork in the Road

**I'm baaaaack!!!! At the one month anniversary of my hiatus too. Happy?  
**

**Thanks to all who have reviewed, you make my day.**

* * *

**Fork in the Road**

_If you need a job to give you a life, you either need a new job, or a new life._

—_Richard Webber_

* * *

She walks to the Chief's office, form in hand, and raises a hand to knock. But the moment of bravery she experienced suddenly fades, and she drops the hand and walks back into her office. Gathering her thoughts she tries again, but still can't bring herself to knock, and walks back.

Groaning in frustration she sinks down into a chair, tossing the papers onto her desk. One day. She has one day left. Tomorrow her contract expires, and she's either going to give Richard the contract renewal form, or say goodbye.

And being the overanalyzing freak as usual, she still can't make a decision.

Six months ago it wouldn't even have been a choice; she had been sure then, and if not for her desire to present herself as reliable when it came to contracts, she would probably be in L.A. with Naomi and Sam already (and of course, she's not going to think of Pete). But now, after she _promised_ herself that she wouldn't change her mind, she's back to square one.

She groans again, shaking her head in disgust. Why was it always _him_? _He_ was the one that had sent her scurrying across state lines in the first place; _he's_ the one that had to pick her for sex. And _he's_ the one that had to be so nice to her and not be _interested _at the same time

Really, she might as well give up now, and accept that she's always going to need a man to define who she is.

Her pager beeps, and for once she feels relieved. She won't have to make a decision just yet. There would more time to think, later. For now, there are babies to save.

* * *

But after three surgeries and she _still_ can't decide, she thinks that maybe she needs some help. Callie and Miranda would probably want her to stay, but well, listening to them would probably be better than hearing Richard say "It's all up to you, Addie" one more time.

So at lunch she tells them, as she plops down on a chair.

"My contract expires tomorrow," she says, "And I don't know if I should renew it or not."

Miranda looks up from the medical journal she had been reading, and fixes her with a look. "Nice to see you too, Sunshine," she says, sarcasm dripping, "Did you have a question now?"

She of course ignores this, and turns to Callie instead, "Callie?"

Callie doesn't even have time to look at her, so intense is the staring contest between her and back of Izzie Stevens's head.

"Callie!"

"What?" she turns around, and, of course thinking that they had been talking about _her_ problems and _her_ life, says, "He's still sitting with her. After he told me, and I took him back. After—

"Callie," she interrupts, "My contract?"

"Huh?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, do continue, Callie," she says, "Because obviously me leaving Seattle is less important than O'Malley's affair _half a year ago_."

"You're leaving?"

"Addison," Miranda says, shooting her another glare, "Be nice," and then, to Callie, "She wants us to help her decide whether or not she should leave."

Callie sits there and says nothing, but has the decency to turn the teeniest shade of red.

"Personally, I don't see why you're so conflicted," Miranda says, turning back to her, "Seattle Grace is one of the best hospitals in the West Coast. The longer you stay here, the better your reputation becomes."

She sighs, and reminds herself that Miranda actually is more than just a colleague, and cares about her personal as well as professional needs. "But Miranda, the _rain_," she says, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling, "I hate the rain. And the _men_. Mark and Derek and Karev—

"Uh-uh," Miranda cuts her off before she could say more, frowning, "We are not talking about Karev. Bad enough that you slept with one of _my_ interns, but now you're using a one-night stand as an excuse to leave?"

"But it's not―" she stops before she can spill the whole fiasco with Karev out, but Callie catches the words anyway.

"But it's not what?" She's not talking, but the silence only seems to encourage Callie more, "What's going on between you and Karev?"

"Nothing," she replies, and winces, realizing that she had spoken too quickly.

"Uh-huh," Miranda says, leaning forward, eyes narrowing, "Tell me."

She groans, but stands up instead. "You two," she says, glaring at them both, "Are not helping. You," she says to Bailey, "Go order someone besides your boss around. And you―" she says to Callie, "Don't you have the back of someone's head to stare at?"

She leaves, but not before ducking as a carrot suddenly comes whizzing over her head.

* * *

He's not sure how he ended up standing at the doorway of her office.

Really, there's no reason.

But hell, Torres just flicked a _carrot_ at her in the cafeteria, so he figures that it's enough of a reason to end up staring at her shuffling papers.

When she _notices_ him, though, all the reason leaves, and all he's left with is an incredible sense of embarrassment and stupidity.

She smiles and beckons him in, but he still feels the heat in his cheeks, and can't figure out what to say.

"Want to get something to eat?" the words get out as if his mouth had functioned without utilizing his brain, and really, he can't blame the surprised look on her face, because not only is it two o'clock and he _knows_ she just ate lunch, but didn't she just tell him two days ago that she wasn't interested?

But the words were out, so he plows on, "Not right now," he stutters slightly, mentally kicking himself for sounding like Bambi, "Later. When your shift ends. And I know you're not interested," he rushes ahead as her smile fades, "it's just a friend thing. No strings."

She relaxes, but shakes her head, though he likes to delude himself in thinking that he can see a trace of regret. "I'd love to…but I have a decision to make tonight," she nods at the papers on her desk.

He steps forward and takes one of them from her, and it takes only about two seconds for him to recognize that it's a contract renewal form. Confused now, he looks up at her, frowning. "What decision do you need to make about renewing your contract?"

She sighs, and takes off her glasses. "That's the problem," comes the reply, "I don't know whether I should renew it or not."

He must have looked as incredulous as he feels, because she flushes, and says, "Seattle Grace is a great hospital, but there's a lot of things I have to deal with here. A lot of baggage―" and he flinches slightly at this, knowing that he's part of the baggage, "that I need to move on from. So I can't really figure out what to do."

Her eyes seem to search his, and he knows that this is the part where he acts like the friend that he's supposed to be and convince her to stay. But for some odd reason, just when he wants the words to come, they can't.

Because he looks at the hope in her eyes, and suddenly he's back to six months ago, Ava's eyes boring into his. And it hurts, to remember what had happened last time.

It hurts too much, so he snaps back the spine he had grown miraculously a couple of minutes ago, and retreats back into his little castle of callousness and insensitivity. "Well, maybe you should go," Ignoring the look of surprise on her face, he continues, "I mean, we'll miss you and all that, but it might be good, you know? To get away from all this crap."

Her face is changing, going fifty miles per hour from expectancy, to surprise, and finally settling on disbelief. He cringes slightly, expecting her pull an Ava.

But she doesn't and he realizes that he's forgotten that she and Ava are actually not that alike. He didn't create her and pick out a face for her, and she doesn't throw a fit when he calls her the wrong name. She doesn't have a kid, probably never even been pregnant. She's not Ava, she's _Addison_. Best neonatal surgeon in the country, and kick-ass professional. His boss.

So instead of saying "Did you sniff too much glue as a child?" like he half expects her to, she simply nods, and smiles at him as if that had been the most worthy piece of advice she had ever gotten.

So he tells himself that it's what's best, for both of them. She would leave and be happy, he would find someone else to screw, and everyone would be fine.

But of course, that theory only holds well if he doesn't think about how or why all of a sudden he feels like crap.

* * *

**You know, I keep an ax beside my bed, just in case anyone's naughty and doesn't review.**

**Just saying.**


End file.
